Gay Concentrtion Camp
by 1weirdlamp
Summary: We all remember the holocaust. We all know that some people do not like homosexuality. We all say that the holocaust was a horrible thing that happened. This story is what might happen if the people who don't like homosexuality might do if they won this undeclared war. Follow this gay boys journey in the future where homosexuality is like being Jewish back in the holocaust.


Why could we never enjoy the freedom of the other children? Why did we have to watch them from behind the fence? The children on the other side can't get to close to us though, the fence made sure of that. If they got to close the police would stop them. They knew that if the children played to close and accidently touched the fence, they would get hurt.  
I have seen an old man on the inside reach out to touch it. I thought that the police would come to stop him but they didn't. He dug his palms into the sharp barbed wire to keep his body there. I saw the smoke that rose from his hands. I could hear the sharp buzzing that came from the fence as the strong current raced through his body. The police didn't care about us, the people on the inside. I mean that's why we were in the inside, because no one cared about us. Everybody was told that people like us were bad. Therefore the police would save the people on the outside but only watch on as the people on the inside committed suicide.  
It has been this way for a long time though, close to seven years now if I remember correctly. I have only been here for five years though, but I'm sure it will go on for years after. The police could do whatever they wanted though. Whether or not it was safe. I have seen people being beat inches away from death only to be told to get back up and keep working.  
Now I'm sure that if you are reading this now, you probably think I'm in a concentration camp in Europe during the holocaust, well I'm not-

In fact it is years after the holocaust, in 2056. I am not even in Europe, I'm in America in the state of Indiana or what's left of it anyways. No, we didn't have a war and to the people on the outside nothing has changed, we are the same America we have always been.  
But to those of us who aren't lucky enough to be out there know the truth. America is a strong nation that is true yes. We have moved on past racial discrimination but we have in some ways lost progress. I am 16 now and six years ago I realized that I liked boys. There was another word for it but I didn't figure out that word until later on.  
Before I came here I remember dragging my mother outside and down to the town square to watch as the brightly colored rainbow floats went by. We would stand in the crowd and cheer with everybody else in the crowd. All of us wearing bright clothes that would make any gay person proud. There was so many people there and because of our small town I knew that not all of the attendees were gay. Life was good. Just me and my mother against the world, my father left soon after I was born.  
Again, all was good. But three days after my tenth birthday things started to change.

Suddenly the bright floats that went by once a month never came back again. All the rainbow flags that once adorned the city seemed to be torn down overnight. Any gay rights posters were ripped apart.  
I wasn't shocked at first though. Nowadays with the news changing so quickly I thought that the city was just undergoing some reconstruction. In order to put up all the gay pride things all the 'go green' posters and floats had to disappear. Although I must admit that the gay pride things seemed to disappear a lot quicker than the going green things.  
Indiana was known for keeping up with the current trends and news. So maybe I was young and thought that gay news was getting old. Perhaps it was time for a change. But I should have known it wasn't going to be like that. Gay news would never really be pushed to the back of the news. Just like discrimination is will never go away. It might die down but it will never truly go away, at least not until people realize that we are all the same under our skin.

But pretty soon it wasn't just the loss of the colorful rainbows. It was the things that went up in their place that disturbed me. Well, it didn't really disturb me at that time but looking back on it now it should have disturbed me. The posters with rainbow stripes soon turned into posters with black, grey, and white stripes. There were no more color at all in our city.  
Police had construction workers paint the outside of all the buildings in the town. I'm sure this might be confusing as to why the police got to do that, but in Indiana we got rid of our mayor and just let the police run our legal system. But it wasn't just Indiana I mean, most of the United States had done that. But anyways, our entire city that used to be bright with buildings and colorful street art was then painted over with grey paint. I couldn't believe that my once beautiful city had turned into the dark and dreary place. But other than that nothing changed.  
Then all of a sudden the police had the construction workers building a giant fire pit in the center of the town. I didn't know what it was for at the time and it is still a little strange as to why they did this. The timing made no sense at all. Because they left the giant fire pit there for almost a week. But in that week the police decided to give another challenge.  
We got four gallons of two types of grey paint. That gave us eight gallons total. We were told to paint the inside of our house and to make sure it looked nice. My mother and I both shared a rebellious side so naturally we left our bright green and white walls up. But soon two police men came knocking hard on our door. I stared at my mother and her eyes widened. She opened the door and invited them in anyways. The police took a look around and wrote something down in a black notebook. No one spoke, all they did was walk around looking at every room in our house. When they were done they turned to us and nodded, before walking out the door.

To say my mother was worried was a huge understatement. She stayed up that night pacing our kitchen muttering softly under her breath. I'm sure that she thought I was sound asleep but who can sleep while knowing your loved one is that worried. I remember whimpering and her coming into my room and holding me close. She rocked me in her arms until I was sound asleep.  
That seemed to be the last peaceful day in our sleepy little town. The next day the police came knocking on our door again. My mother told me to stay in my room with the door locked. The pounding on the door got louder and the police started to shout now. "OPEN THE DOOR." I ran quickly to my room and stood on my tip toes to lock the door. Of course that didn't stop me from pressing my ear to the door. Then I heard the muffled voices of the police telling my mother to bring all the colorful clothes in the house to them and put it in the basket, which I assumed they brought with them.  
It turns out I was right. My mother came and knocked on my door telling me to open up for her. She walked in and apologized +9quickly before taking all my clothes out of my room. I followed her out and picked up all the pieces that she dropped. The police at the door were waiting impatiently two large laundry baskets, one already filled with what I recognized as my mother's clothes. We dumped my clothes into the basket. The police didn't even nod their heads this time, they just picked up the baskets and left us there confused.  
We weren't in the dark for too long though, the police came back in an hour and told us to go outside to the town square. Because it was just my mother and I, and because of our small town we didn't have a car. So we started the five minute walk to the square. Before we got there we were hit with the smell of burning fabric. My mother looked around quickly and started to pull me to the square faster. When we got there we had no time to think before me and my mother were separated. The police ushered my mother into a line on the other side of the square whereas I was stuck in another line filled with children ranging from five to seventeen years old.  
I waited and waited in that line for hours before I finally reached the front. A police man sat there staring at me intensely looking as though he was waiting for me to do something. When all I did was stand there, he sighed and harshly told me to undress. I remember looking around for my mother or a bathroom. The police man got angry then and stood up and forced my clothes off. I was scared, I didn't know what was about to happen. Luckily all he did was sit back down and gave me three sets of grey pants shirts and underwear. I also got four pairs of grey socks and one pair of white shoes. He told me to put one on, which I did. Then I was told to wait in the next line, where my mother was waiting, wearing the same thing as me.  
We waited in that line almost all day before we got to the front. I got to go first, and a police man had me sit in a barber's chair. But he didn't put a smock around me and all he did was cut my shoulder length black hair into a buzz cut. He pushed me out of the chair, ignoring me whining about the hair that got into my shirt. I waited on the sidewalk and waited until my mother got her hair cut to her chin, just like all the other girls who already got their hair cut. When she got out of line and made her way over to me I opened my mouth to ask her about what was happening, but before I could talk she shushed me.  
When we got home and we walked into our house we realized that the interior had been painted a light shade of grey. My mother sighed and told me to head to sleep. Naturally the day couldn't just end there, the police started to bang on our door once more. As my mother answered the door, I peaked out from between her legs. The police looked down at me and then back at my mother. "This section of the town is being separated from the rest of the city for suspicions it is holding gays." I looked up at him. Being young and naïve I asked him what being gay was. He stared down at me very hard and whispered "a very bad person". My mother pushed me out of the way and told me again to go to sleep.  
The next morning when I woke up I went to go to school only to be stopped at the door by my mother. "You can't go to school anymore bunny." She said with tears in her eyes. I was ten at the time so of course I was happy I didn't need to go to school. I never had too many friends either so I didn't have anything to miss. As I went to go play with my toys my mother smiled and stopped me. "I said you couldn't go to school mister but I'm still going to teach you!" and she did. Every day was a new lesson and I learned a lot more than I ever did at school.  
But of course life wasn't all that happy in the separated part of the city. Because of the 'bad people' in our area the police shut off our water supply. We also didn't have a store in this area so we had no way of getting food. Luckily for my mother and I we had a stockpile of cereal, granola bars, and water. But people were always sick and a lot of people died outside. My mother started to refuse letting me outside because it got so bad. Also because we didn't have any water coming in, people used the toilet out in the open. Mommy and me had a backyard where we dug holes to do our business and then covered it back up. But our backyard started to smell really bad and looked gross. We lived that way for half a year. So many people were dead it scared me to look outside.

But soon it was my birthday, a day that was forever burned into my mind. This was the day my mother was taken away from me. It was a normal day for the most part, the sun was out and there were a few clouds in the sky. Because it was my birthday my mom let me skip my lessons and played with me until lunch. But during lunch that horrible pounding came back to our door. My mother went to go answer the door but she never came back. So I ran out of our house and all the way to our areas boundaries. There was a small hole under the wooden planks that were put up to keep us in. I was small for my age and managed to squeeze myself through the hole.  
Once I had gotten out of the little ghetto they put us in I noticed that nothing had changed in half a year. All the boys still had their buzz cuts with their grey uniforms and the ladies had their chin length hair with their grey skirts and black tops. The buildings were still painted their depressing grey and the flags with grey, black, and white were still tacked up. The people looked happy enough so I'm guessing that no one really noticed the planks that were put up.  
Either way I started to make my way to the jail. The police there didn't look familiar so I guess they were shocked that an eleven year old made their way to the jail by himself. The man at the desk looked down at me and sighed asking me who I wanted to talk to. I responded with my mother's name "Marie Robison". The man at the desk waved his hand and another police man guided me to the telephones. Where I was met with a woman I could barely recognize. She had only been there for a short time but her hair was a mess and she looked tired.  
When she saw me her eyes lit up. Then suddenly her eyes dimmed again. "How did you get here?" I knew I shouldn't answer for real because if the police heard me then I would probably be driven back to that horrible ghetto. "Well I got my mother to let me walk over here to see you Auntie Marie" I said giving her a look that I hoped told her to go along with it. It must have worked because she nodded and accepted the answer. We talked for an hour about useless things. We talked about my birthday, the weather, and almost anything else you can think of. I hadn't even lost her for long but I missed her so much.  
Then a police man on her side walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder and told us it was time for her to go. She nodded and quickly stood up. But she turned around and yelled out "DON'T LET THEN FIND OUT YOU LIKE BOYS CHANCE! RUN, RUN FAR AWAY AND DON'T TURN BACK" I couldn't move. I just watched as the most horrific scene I have ever seen unfolded in front of me. The man on her side grabbed my mother's short red hair and slammed her into the white brick wall behind us.  
The wall that was once white was now streaked red with her blood. She was screaming and sobbing for me to run and leave but I was glued to my seat. The man who held her slammed her into the wall again and again until she slumped down against the wall, not moving. The man let her go and turned to me. I didn't move I was staring at my mother who I hoped was unconscious, not dead. The man ran over to my side and picked me up by my shirt. "You like boys?" his breath smelled bad and he was all up in my face. I, still in my trance, just nodded my head, my eyes never leaving my mother.  
But soon it was my birthday, a day that was forever burned into my mind. This was the day my mother was taken away from me. It was a normal day for the most part, the sun was out and there were a few clouds in the sky. Because it was my birthday my mom let me skip my lessons and played with me until lunch. But during lunch that horrible pounding came back to our door. My mother went to go answer the door but she never came back. So I ran out of our house and all the way to our areas boundaries. There was a small hole under the wooden planks that were put up to keep us in. I was small for my age and managed to squeeze myself through the hole.  
Once I had gotten out of the little ghetto they put us in I noticed that nothing had changed in half a year. All the boys still had their buzz cuts with their grey uniforms and the ladies had their chin length hair with their grey skirts and black tops. The buildings were still painted their depressing grey and the flags with grey, black, and white were still tacked up. The people looked happy enough so I'm guessing that no one really noticed the planks that were put up.  
Either way I started to make my way to the jail. The police there didn't look familiar so I guess they were shocked that an eleven year old made their way to the jail by himself. The man at the desk looked down at me and sighed asking me who I wanted to talk to. I responded with my mother's name "Marie Robison". The man at the desk waved his hand and another police man guided me to the telephones. Where I was met with a woman I could barely recognize. She had only been there for a short time but her hair was a mess and she looked tired.  
When she saw me her eyes lit up. Then suddenly her eyes dimmed again. "How did you get here?" I knew I shouldn't answer for real because if the police heard me then I would probably be driven back to that horrible ghetto. "Well I got my mother to let me walk over here to see you Auntie Marie" I said giving her a look that I hoped told her to go along with it. It must have worked because she nodded and accepted the answer. We talked for an hour about useless things. We talked about my birthday, the weather, and almost anything else you can think of. I hadn't even lost her for long but I missed her so much.  
Then a police man on her side walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder and told us it was time for her to go. She nodded and quickly stood up. But she turned around and yelled out "DON'T LET THEN FIND OUT YOU LIKE BOYS CHANCE! RUN, RUN FAR AWAY AND DON'T TURN BACK" I couldn't move. I just watched as the most horrific scene I have ever seen unfolded in front of me. The man on her side grabbed my mother's short red hair and slammed her into the white brick wall behind us.  
The wall that was once white was now streaked red with her blood. She was screaming and sobbing for me to run and leave but I was glued to my seat. The man who held her slammed her into the wall again and again until she slumped down against the wall, not moving. The man let her go and turned to me. I didn't move I was staring at my mother who I hoped was unconscious, not dead. The man ran over to my side and picked me up by my shirt. "You like boys?" his breath smelled bad and he was all up in my face. I, still in my trance, just nodded my head, my eyes never leaving my mother.

The officer waved his hand and three more police came up to join us. I distinctly remembered them calling me names, awful names that shouldn't have ever been made up in the first place. It makes me think about what they would have done if we weren't in public. The police were now forming a square around me with their bodies. Have you ever seen the president's daughter with her body guards? Yes, it was exactly like that, only they weren't here to make sure I was safe, they were there to make sure the people stayed safe from me.  
It was like I had a disease because as soon as they formed their little square we marched down to the health ward of the jail. They forced into my hands a suit, it was all yellow and had a glass pane in front of your face so you can see. They told me to put it on and fast because we had to leave. So I did. The guards then put on suits of their own and grabbed long metal rods. It was almost like a gigantic sized trash grabber.  
They all opened their grabbers and latched it onto my waist, effectively trapping me from moving side to side. They started to move, pulling me along. It hurt a lot, my waist twisting and skin grabbing in places that I haven't felt before. My shirt rose up to expose some of my waist and the grippers would pinch horribly. The police didn't seem to care though and they kept dragging me around.

We walked out of the station and the police put a blindfold over my eyes. When I tried to ask what was going on a man with a very strong hand slapped me clear across the face, telling me that I didn't have the right to speak. I was only eleven so of course I didn't understand. I was very smart but I had no idea why I couldn't speak. I'm not sure why our neighborhood had big ugly planks in front of it. And I'm also not sure why the police never did anything with all the dead bodies that piled up along our streets. Finally I'm not sure why we were different.  
We walked for close to a mile, until we got to the city limits. They surprised me by having an old beat up police car parked on the grass. They nudged me forward although I shouldn't say nudge, it was more of a shove. I fell forward cutting my knee on the many sharp rocks hidden in the dirt. They pulled me up and roughly pushed me into the car. I was soon joined by two police in hasmat suits on either side of me, still grabbing my waist with their grabbers. The other two police men were sitting up front.  
The driver pulled a set of what I assume was keys out of his pocket because within a few seconds the car rumbled to life. I sat in the back being jostled about as the car moved up and down along the bumpy road. Whenever I fell to the side to much I ended up leaning on one of the officers. Now instead of being civil and offering me a light push back up the pushed me completely over to the other officer ending up with a shoving war.  
It went on like that for a long time. Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours and hours turned to days. I was smarter than that, we have only been driving for about two hours. The car let out a whine and lurched forward. We had stopped. I heard the police in the front of the car bark out that the officers nearest to me were supposed to take me to "the place." I was scared, where were we going now? I didn't get much time to think because I was pulled out of the car, landing on my back with rocks digging into me. There was only one officer with me now. I considered getting up and fighting back but I just didn't have the strength, physically or emotionally. I stayed on my back on the ground until I felt the officer roll me over with his foot. Now laying on my back he re attached the grabber to my waist and tugged up, indicating for me to get on my hands and knees. I heard the clicking of metal. Suddenly I felt something cold clip around my neck. Gravel was crunching and the thing around my neck pulled my forward telling me I had been put on a leash.  
I was pulled along for half an hour in the hot sun, my knees and hands bleeding from the rocks littering the ground. I panted and wheezed barely being able to breathe. I was very hungry after not eating for almost two days. I was incredibly thirsty and was in desperate need of water. The police officer didn't care though and kept pulling me along. When we finally stopped it was in an air conditioned building. From behind the blind fold I could tell the room was painted a very light color. Someone unclipped my leash and told me to crawl forward. I stumbled forward only to hit a wall. The person laughed a deep laugh and told me to keep going. I used the wall as my guide only bumping my head on the wall when there was a corner.  
Suddenly a lighter voice spoke up. "Oh stop letting the boy hurt himself ace" who I'm guessing was the police man. "Never would I ever" the voice who laughed at me earlier spoke. The light voiced man laughed and put his hand on my back. He guided me through though the labyrinth of a building. When we reached our destination he removed my blindfold letting my see light for the first time in hours. I hissed and made a move to cover my eyes. The man smacked my hand from my eyes.  
"You are not allowed to do that you filthy animal" he growled out. His light voice now gone and was replaced with one resembling a wild animal. "I am the doctor and you will address me as such. I need to do a check up to make sure that you are not going to spread infection" I was beyond confused. Why did we have to ride all this way for me to get a checkup? Why was this doctor calling me an animal, and why is it so important that I not spread infection? At first I thought they were finally cleaning up the ghettos I called my home. Naturally I was wrong.  
He did his thing, taking my temperature, checking my blood pressure, just common things a doctor would do. Suddenly he sat on the paper covered bed with me. His eyes softened as he looked at me. "You're the youngest one I have seen here kid. I've seen what they do. All I can tell you is, try to make them think it was a mistake" His voice was soft and sincere. At that moment the police man, who I now see was very large and capable of breaking me like a toothpick, barged into the room. "You aren't giving the beast any tips are you?" His voice much harder and scary than the one of the doctor. He shook his head and pushed me off of the bed. The police man let me stand up and walk out of the building, back into the hot scorching sun.  
He let me walk for another ten minutes until we got to the big wire gates. I could hear the electric current coming off of it and made a mental note to be careful not to touch the fence. On the top of the fence I could see the sharp barbed wire. It wasn't just on the top either, at the very bottom of the fence I could see the barbs digging deep into the ground. On the other side of the fence I could see miles of fields full of small plants and trees. There was a few building scattered here and there all made of wood and nailed together. The most shocking thing though was in the clearing near the smallest building.  
There was a large group of men being whipped, hit, and verbally abused by police officers. The officers only laughed as they watched the men yell and cry and beg for mercy. It was getting dark and the officer who brought me here pushed me through the gates, locking them behind me. He pushed me into the smallest building, closed the door and left. There wasn't much to see in the building, just a large bunk bed that was built into the wall. The bed stretched around the room and there was no sheets of pillows. After about five minutes the large group of men limped into the building, some still with tear tracks on their faces. Once the large mass of men were in the small building they all looked to me.  
The oldest of them seemed to be about twenty-nine years old. His face was calm and he looked as if he wasn't just whipped senseless. His eyes were a deep brown that pulled you in and captivated you. In the corners of his eyes were small wrinkles showing he smiled a lot. Or at least he used to smile a lot. His hair was a sandy blond and cut into a buzz cut, like mine used to be before it grew out. His face was dirty and sweaty. All in all he was beautiful.  
He walked to me. I scrambled back until I felt the wall, trapping me next to him. All he did was laugh. He grabbed me close and hugged me. "Don't worry dear boy, I will explain everything in the morning. You can sleep next to me tonight." To say I was shocked was an understatement. Who was this man? I also didn't get the sleeping arrangement. Suddenly all the men in the room started to strip. I felt awkward and didn't know what to really do. The old man stepped to me and pulled off my shirt and pants, leaving me in my tighty whites along with the rest of the men. They all grabbed their clothes and got onto the bed. Once they were situated they dropped the clothes on the floor at the foot of the bed. I followed the old man and settled into his side on the bed.  
I tried to stay awake just to make sure I wouldn't be hurt as I slept. The events of the day just came crashing back to me. My mother died, I was taken away, and now I'm at a strange place with a bunch of scary men. For the first time that day I started to cry. I cried and cried until sleep overcame me.

I was awoken with a start. The older man was shaking me violently and I was screaming, begging for my mother. All I wanted was my mother. The man couldn't bring her back and I knew that but I just felt helpless without her. He did surprise me however. Instead of trying to talk to me, he sat down next to me and pulled my body into his arms, cradling me softly. He moved my hair and of my face and dried my tears. "There, there, little boy you are safe here. I am Ben, what's your name?" I sniffled and mumbled out my name in response. I still didn't trust him. He cupped his hand behind his ear, telling my without words that he needed me to speak up. "Chance" I muttered a little bit louder. He smiled "chance, I like that name it is very unique." I nodded as he squeezed my middle a little.  
"Now, dear chance here comes the hard part" I cocked my eyebrows at him. "Do you know what this place is or why you're here?" I shook my head, was I finally about to have all my questions answered? "Let's start from the beginning, are you gay?" I tilted my head. "No I'm not a bad person" I pouted. He laughed making chest rumble. "Being gay doesn't make you a bad person Chance, do you really know what being gay means?" Again I shook my head. "Well, being gay beans if you're a boy then if you like another boy, you are gay." I pointed to myself "I'm gay" He shook his head violently pushing a finger to my lips. "No boy, don't say that out loud okay. The police here think being gay is bad. This is a camp" I started to jump on his lap. "A camp? Like the ones my mommy used to send me to when I went to school?" he laughed but shook his head. "No, not like that kind of camp, have you ever heard of the holocaust?"  
I did know about that, my mother had been teaching me about Hitler a couple of months earlier so I eagerly nodded my head and started to babble about all that I knew. He held up his hand to stop me. "Do you remember your mother teaching you about concentration camps?" Again I nodded. "This is a concentration camp for gay people." I might have been young but that I understood. I fell against his chest hugging him tightly.  
Police men forced open the door to the building and pushed all of us out. Ben explained to me the basis of every day. In the morning we would work out. Work out meaning running in place and when I whistle blew we had to drop into a push up before quickly standing back up and running again. This out would take us about two hours in the morning. You had to run fast though because if you were even a little slow, you would be shot. After our morning workout we got to go work. Jobs at the camp varied per person. You could be a wood worker, tailor, jewelry maker, shoe maker, or other things of that nature. I got to work out in the fields, taking care of the crops that grew there. Ben was a tailor and a great one at that.  
After about seven hours of work we got "lunch". That was just water and some bread, at least we got food on a constant basis. Then after a half an hour lunch period it was back to work. For the last hour of our day before we had to return to out beds, we were punished. Everybody would line up in three straight lines and the police men would walk up and down picking men that they felt needed to be punished that day. Some were punished for doing simple things like, not sewing one stitch in the correct place, or letting the fruit rot. Many times men were punished just because they were gay and in need of a little "motivation" to become straight. The punishments were harsh and often humiliating. One I remember to well was one of Ben's. The police made him strip naked and receive several harsh whippings from all the prisoners there.  
Then we would all pile into our little cabin, which I later found out that the prisoners had to make themselves, and go to sleep. It was a rough life but it was life. We were all careful and only a few people were killed every day. Sadly among those killed was my best friend and at one point boyfriend, Ben. Sure he was older but it was love. He was killed for asking for better food for the men. The police shot him through the head on the spot, he didn't even flinch. Right now I am hiding behind the trees in the fields, writing on some spare fabric from the shoe makers hut. I guess the whole cause of this new age holocaust is the fact that people can't seem to accept different people. No matter what people say they cant accept others for who they are. I really should go now, this is against the rules. But to think this all started with- BANG

THE END 


End file.
